


Double Feature

by ryfkah



Category: Darkest Powers - Kelley Armstrong
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryfkah/pseuds/ryfkah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tori is okay with a little bit of sappy, as long as it contributes to the overall goal of her life not sucking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Feature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evewithanapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/gifts).



A shadow fell over me, and a piece of paper dropped in my lap.

Only one person in the house cast that large a shadow: my boyfriend, Derek. He was looking at me, wearing the impassive expression I had learned meant that he was feeling awkward and wanted me to say something first, so I picked up the paper – and promptly let out an embarrassing squeak of delight.

The paper was a program from the local theater in our new town, advertising a “Supernatural Summer” program. Every Wednesday night, 7 PM, they would screen a double feature – two films for the price of one – of sci-fi, action and horror films. I looked back up at Derek, beaming. 

Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought he turned a little bit red. “I thought maybe we could go to one sometime,” he muttered. 

I wanted to go to _all_ of them, and I started to say so, but then I hesitated, trying to tone down my enthusiasm. I didn't want him to feel pressured or anything. “Um, I didn't think you were all that into movies?”

Derek hunched down a little. “Not all that much,” he said gruffly. “But you really like them, so...anyway.” He glanced away, embarrassed. “Going with you would be nice.”

I turned around on the sofa, clambering up onto my knees so that I could put my arms around his neck. “I'd really, really like that,” I told him. 

I hoped he could hear how much I meant it. For the last few months, Derek and I had been forced to pose as step-siblings, which meant trips to the movies alone together – as in, _dates_ – had been basically out of the question. Also, the town only had one movie theater anyway, and all it ever screened was the latest blockbusters. But now we were in a new place, where we were finally allowed to act like boyfriend-and-girlfriend in public. And, even better, it turned out our new town had a really robust program of nostalgia screenings. 

. . . all right, maybe not 'even better.' Let's just say both of those things were making me pretty happy and leave it at that.

I would have kissed him to show just how happy – his arms were around me now, too – but I wanted to look at what screenings they were showing and if I started with that we were likely to get distracted. Also, with our luck, someone was bound to walk in on us anyway. So instead I just kissed him on the cheek and then wriggled back around in the circle of his arms to pick the program back up again. 

“It looks like they're doing _Ghost_ and _The Mummy_ tomorrow – that's kind of a weird pairing, real tonal whiplash, but I guess maybe that's what they're going for. Have you seen either of them?”

I was hoping he would say he hadn't. Over the course of my life, I've gotten way too used to hearing people say things like, “Chloe, I'm sorry, but there's only so many times you can see _The Exorcist_ ,” which for the record is just plain not true. But either way, it's fun to see somebody else watch something for the first time. 

“No,” said Derek, but he sounded like he was frowning. I glanced back at him. 

“Want me to tell you about them? I mean, I don't want to spoil them or anything. _The Mummy_ is pretty great, though. I can't think of anybody who doesn't like it – well, except the critics, so I guess a lot of people really, but critics always hate that kind of movie. _Ghost_ is a romance, which isn't really my thing, so it wouldn't exactly be my first pick. But it does have some great cinematography. It was nominated for an Academy Award for film editing, which I think it probably deserved more than the original screenplay award that it actually won --” I realized that I was babbling, and Derek still had a frown line between his eyebrows. “What's wrong?”

“It's just – two movies about the undead? Are you sure that's a good idea?”

I blinked. It hadn't even occurred to me until just then. I loved action and horror movies, but I hadn't really had a chance to watch any of my old paranormal favorites since I found out I could _actually_ raise the dead. Most of my experiences with that hadn't been all that pleasant – in fact, I still had nightmares about some of the stuff I had done. I bit my lip, considering, and then shook my head firmly.

“No, it'll be fine. Movies are my comfort zone. It won't freak me out to see this stuff through a camera's-eye view again – in fact, I think it might actually help.” 

Derek looked at me and nodded, accepting my judgment. “Okay. So...”

“So it's a date,” I finished, and leaned back up to him. “Tomorrow night, _The Mummy_ and –”

“Did someone say gho– _ew_ , gross, come on, can't you keep that out of public spaces?”

I flushed and retracted hastily onto the couch as Tori appeared in the doorway. Derek just glared at her. “No.” 

“N-not a real ghost,” I said, hastily. “We were just talking about –”

“No, I know.” Tori waved a copy of the same program Derek had brought me. “ _Ghost_ is only like a classic, right? I figured you'd want to go.”

“We _are_ going,” said Derek, with pointed emphasis.

I knew how he felt – but I couldn't just shut Tori down, not when she'd made an effort. Tori didn't make things easy on herself, but things had been far from easy for her, too. “We should all go,” I said, and shot Derek a look that said, _please._

Tori didn't miss it, of course. “Oh,” she said, in a voice as spiky as her short dark hair, “sorry. Should have guessed. Far be it from me to be a third wheel.” 

“No – no, you're not! I bet Simon will want to go too. He'd love _The Mummy._ ”

Tori rolled her eyes, already retreating back out of the room. “Chloe, you can be such a freaking Disney princess. Pity hangouts are not necessary, all right? You guys want to have a date, so have a date.”

“But you want to see it, and –”

“Yeah, I do, so I'll go see it. I'm not gonna shrivel up and die of loneliness because I'm sitting at the movies by myself. But I might die of _disgust_ if I have to sit and watch you two make out in the back of the theater all night. I have a self-preservation instinct, and I'm activating it.” She made an exaggerated gagging noise, and left.

I looked at Derek; he shrugged. “I didn't say she couldn't come.”

He'd sure spelled it out without saying it, though. I sighed, but decided not to make an issue out of it. I really was looking forward to going to the movies with Derek. I didn't want to ruin it by arguing about Tori when it wasn't even a big deal. 

Still, when we got in line the next day to buy tickets, I couldn't help craning my neck to look around for her. I eventually spotted her standing way ahead of us. The strange thing was, she wasn't alone – it looked like there was another girl with her. I blinked, but before I could see who it was, they had disappeared into the theater.

Well, it wasn't any of my business, and if Tori had made a local friend, that couldn't be anything but good. I gave a mental shrug, and turned my attention back to getting us tickets.

The line was a little long, and I was worried it might sell out, but we got in with plenty of time to get popcorn and sodas before settling into the seats. The movie began. Next to me, Derek shifted, and then shifted again. I was a little annoyed – if he was getting bored already he couldn't be giving the movie a real chance – until his arm lifted and came to rest around my shoulders.

I almost jumped, and Derek's arm tensed as if he were about to lift it up again, but I put up my hand to keep him in place. It wasn't like an arm over the shoulders was anything inappropriate – though from the way my heart was racing, you wouldn't know it. Somehow, the fact that we were sort of in public made even the littlest things seem huge.

I didn't bother to try and suppress the dorky grin that was on my face; I knew he'd be able to see it, even in the dark. I relaxed back into him, completely happy, and tried to go back to focusing on what exactly Walter Murch had done to lose the film editing Oscar. 

As the movie went on, though, I started to get distracted. Something kept flashing in the corner of my eye – someone a couple rows ahead was texting in the middle of the movie. Texting a _lot_. I glanced over at Derek and rolled my eyes in the bluish light from the film (it seems like they always use bluish light for romantic horror). Derek made a face in return. 

We weren't the only people annoyed. A man leaned forward, and tapped the texter on the shoulder. In a loud whisper, he said, “Excuse me, miss, could you not? It's very distracting.”

“Sorry, it's important.” I winced; it was Tori's voice. 

The man persisted: “You're disturbing people in the theater.” 

“I think you're disturbing them more by talking to me, so why don't you just leave it?”

“I'm sorry,” someone else gabbled apologetically next to Tori, “sorry, I'll stop –” I knew that voice, too, but I didn't have time to identify it, because suddenly, the man made a grab for Tori's cell phone. 

He held it up. “'o m g autocorrect just turned pottery to poltergeist l o l?'” he read out loud, disdainfully enunciating the letters. “That doesn't sound all that important to –”

“Give that _back!_ ” Tori didn't bother to whisper that time. She sounded really mad – and the man fell backwards into his seat. 

That had to have been a knock-back spell. I hastily pushed myself out of my own seat. Tori was powerful – really powerful – and she didn't have a lot of self-control. When she got mad, things happened that she didn't always intend. “T-Tori,” I called out, knowing that everyone in the theater was probably now just as annoyed at me as they were at Tori and the guy behind her. “S-sorry for texting – I'll tell you outside?” 

Tori glared at me. For a second I thought she wasn't going to come, and started wondering how I was going to explain to Kit and Aunt Lauren that Tori had managed to start a riot at the movie theater, but then she grabbed the phone back out of the hands of the stunned man and started picking her way towards me. I put my hand on Derek's arm as he started to rise, and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I'll talk to her. Stay here, okay?”

Derek wasn't happy about it, but he knew as well as I did that having him there would only make things worse. He gripped my hand, and then let me go. 

Tori stormed out into the lobby, and I went after her. “That jackass!” she spat. “It wasn't like I had the sound on or anything, he just _had_ to be an asshole?”

“He was pretty rude,” I said, cautiously, “and grabbing your phone was way out of line. But Tori, hitting him with a knock-back –”

Tori whirled on me. “Oh, so you're my mom now.”

That was a punch in the gut, but maybe I deserved it. “No, I'm not,” I said, as steadily as I could. “I'm just reminding you of what you already know.”

Tori just turned back away and kept walking. After a second, she started furiously punching buttons on her phone. I followed her out and into the street. When we had gotten a block away from the theater, I decided to try again. “Um – Tori . . .”

“Why don't you just forget about it?” Tori snapped, without turning around. “You should go back. Your dog's probably starting to whine.” 

She sounded like she was calming down. There were plenty of people around, and we were walking distance from home; it shouldn't be dangerous for us here. “Okay, I will, if you want me to. Um – do you want me to tell your friend anything?”

She did turn and look at me then. “My friend?”

“Yeah, the girl you were with at the theater. If she wonders where you are?”

Tori blinked once or twice, and then abruptly started to laugh, harshly. “Oh my god. _Chloe._ You – that was Liz!”

“Liz?” I echoed.

“Yeah. Liz. _My_ friend, remember?”

Tori's friend. Tori's dead best friend – who only I could see. “But you can't...” I said, blankly, feeling slow. 

“Come on.” Tori waggled the cell phone in my face. “We live in the twenty-first century, remember? We've been messaging for weeks.”

A lot of things were suddenly becoming clear. I'd never heard of a ghost texting before, but Liz's Agito powers let her pick up a pencil to write notes; why shouldn't she be able to press cell phone buttons? But then – I glanced around, and called out, “Liz?” I'd seen her before in line with Tori; where was she now?

“She needs to use my phone to text. She hasn't said anything since that guy grabbed it.” She glanced at me. “And I'm guessing she's not anywhere around now, is she? Yeah. Thought so. Now you get why I'm so mad? It's _hard_ for Liz to do normal stuff. It's not like we can exactly braid each other's hair anymore.” A beat. “That was a joke. I suck at braiding hair. But the stuff we did use to do – like, we watched movies together a lot. Liz was a great person to watch movies with, like, I'm sorry, Chloe, but you analyze freaking _everything_ , and that is not what I go to a movie for – anyway, we always said we were going to go out to see movies together after we got out of Lyle House, and we didn't get the chance. So we tried it this time. And it got ruined. Like everything in my life has, basically.”

“Tori . . .”

“Look – I get it. You mean well, you want to help, whatever. But you can't. Not with this. Just --” She ran her hand back through her hair, frustrated, and sighed. “If you do see Liz when you go back there, tell her to come talk to me?” 

She turned again before I could answer, and started walking back towards home. 

* * *

 

I left Chloe standing there, looking sad and small and big-eyed, which is basically the Chloe special. 

That's not fair. It's not her fault that she's tiny, that she's nice, that people like her and feel sorry for her no matter what she does. It's not her fault that her aunt and her dad are alive and love her, and prove it to her all the freaking time. It's definitely not her fault that she can talk to dead people, and I can't.

I'm not proud of the fact that sometimes it makes me feel good to make her feel bad. I'm trying to get better about not lashing out. When I have really shitty days now, I try and stay away from people. 

This wasn't supposed to have been a shitty day. 

Nobody was home when I got back – Simon had a basketball game, and the adults had both gone to watch him play. That was good. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I got all the way up to the room I shared with Chloe; I grabbed the first non-breakable thing that came to my hands – it was a pillow off my bed – and threw it across the room, as hard as I could. I felt a little better then. I dumped my purse on the bed, went over to my laptop and opened up a new Notepad window. _Liz?_ I typed. _Hey. Liz. Come in, Liz._ Then I sat down in my chair and rested my head on my hands to wait, breathing deep and slow, trying to force myself to calm down. 

Calming down – staying in control – that's something I'm trying really hard to get better at. I haven't spent a lot of the last few months in control. I still don't know why I did a lot of the things I did. Some of it was being on meds that weren't the right meds. Some of it was stress from my mom lying to me, making me think I was sick when she knew all along what was really going on. 

But sometimes, when I think about what I did to Chloe, about the way I obsessed over Simon, totally irrational – about how easy it is now for me to get mad and lose control – it scares me a little. Finding out that I'm a witch doesn't necessarily cancel out the other stuff. I kind of think I want to see another doctor – a real one, not one paid off by my mom, not one who's lying to me to keep me docile. Maybe I just had a temporary break, but if it's not, that's dealable. I just need to _know._

Lauren and Kit would probably help me if I told them, but I haven't told them yet. I know what they used to call me back at Lyle House – the Pill Queen. I know it's stupid, to not try and get help just because it's embarrassing. But I still haven't been able to talk to anyone about it, except Liz. 

I knew I could trust Liz. She was my friend back before we found out about any of this stuff, when I thought everything that was happening was just because I was sick. I thought Liz was sick too. They told her she had the same kind of problems as me, but Liz didn't believe that. Liz knew exactly what was wrong with her; she was convinced she had a poltergeist. 

I thought she really was crazy for thinking that, crazier than I was, or at least in deep denial. But she was super friendly, and totally non-judgmental, and me – I guess I was a little desperate. Basically, I needed to spend time with someone – anyone – who wasn't going to tell me I totally sucked. Like, you know how when you go to camp, you make friends with the kids in your bunk? Liz was like my camp friend. Except she was my group home for crazy kids friend. 

I'll admit it – I kind of used Liz, at least at first. I wouldn't have made any kind of effort to get to know her if we'd met in school, but in the group home? She was so nice, and she would do pretty much whatever I suggested we would do. After a while, though, I really got to rely on her. She never made me feel like I had to be anything other than who I was. 

I knew I was going to get out first – I was working so hard, trying so hard to get better – but I was going to come back and visit her. She would have been the kind of camp friend who brings a duffel bag and comes and hangs out at your house during long weekends. And maybe you don't introduce her to your school friends just because it's too weird when worlds collide like that, and maybe it's just because you can't let your normal friends, the ones you have to be Normal Tori with, see the person that you can be with her. 

Except now none of my normal friends are ever going to meet her anyway, because she's _dead_.

I don't know how long I sat there before I heard the telltale sound of typing. I opened my eyes and saw the letters start to appear in the doc: _sry was watching the end of the movie. txted u from chloes phone but i guess u didnt see it_

“Huh? – oh.” My phone was in my purse, still on silent from being in the movie; I'd forgotten to switch it back. I knew Liz could hear me if I just talked out loud, but I swung around to type back anyway. It made it feel more normal, like we were just having an IM conversation or something – not like I was talking to a ghost. Anyway, I type fast. I'm good with computers.

_Why didn't you give me a heads-up? I was freaking out._

_sry sry got kinda freaked out when u went magic whammy so the thing happened u kno. u were gone when i got back couldnt text til chloe came back in figured might as well finish the movie_

Sometimes Liz just disappears. She calls it the “the thing” and won't tell me anything about it, except that wherever she goes, she's not here. Every time, I'm worried she won't come back. 

_anyway u ok?_

_I guess. Wish you'd been here._

_sry :( :( :( really sry_

_Sorry for freaking you out though._

_its ok :)_

I rubbed my eyes with my fists. _Its not okay though. I could have just moved to the back or something and we could have finished the movie. Like the guy was an asshole and deserved everything he got but_

_u didnt do anything that bad_

_I didn't. But I might have. If Chloe hadn't been there ui hmaighdn_

The one problem with this method of communication was when we were both trying to type something at once, and it got hopelessly garbled. I glared down at my fingers. “If Chloe hadn't been there, I don't know what –”

_its not ur fault. this stuff happens_

“It happens to me! It just happens to me. Everyone else is, like, _fine._ Chloe accidentally raises zombies in her sleep, and she just _copes._ Simon is like the poster child for emotionally stable. Derek – okay, Derek is a total freak and will always be a total freak, but as far as I can tell Derek's always _been_ a total freak, so whatever. Why do I still have to be the crazy one?” 

_and me_

“You're not crazy.” I took a breath, put my fingers back on the keys, and typed again: _Sorry. You're not though. You're fine. You're like the most normal person I know right now._

_haha i dunno about normal. u didnt see me at the end of the movie i got rly emotional like ugly crying emotional._

_Like when we watched Moulin Rouge?_

_OMG!!!!!!! no like worse tho like sobbing on ur shoulder_

_You did that during Moulin Rouge_

_NO BUT LIKE WORSE  
like if ud been there i would have like had to like possess chloe and hold ur hand so like its probably a good thing u werent _

I laughed in spite of myself. _Derek would probably have pissed his pants. Thinking I'm planning to steal Chloe away from him_

_i mean lets face it you are way hotter :)_

_Accurate! Though let's be real there are B-movie slime creatures that are hotter than Derek._ I drummed my fingers on the desk, and then typed, _Can you do that? Possess people?_

 _ummmm dunno i havent tried? seems like it would be creepy._ There was a pause before the sound of typing started up again. _i get it tho. like its not like i really wanna whoopi goldberg chloe bc that would be so creepy. but its really weird not being able to touch people. i wasnt thinking about it so much before but then i was watching the movie and like. its totally weird._ Another pause. _would have been nice to actually cry on ur shoulder or hold ur hand._

“Yeah.” I looked down at my hands, suddenly really mad at myself. I'd been using Liz as a sounding board for my problems, without thinking about her at all. Asking her to go see _Ghost_ of all movies – what had I been thinking? Sure, I knew she loved the movie, but that was before she'd really _been_ a ghost. I'd been mad that Chloe had blown me off for Derek, so I'd gone ahead and invited Liz without thinking. And now she was upset, and it was my fault. 

I'm totally not a touchy-feely person, but right then I would have given just about anything to be able to hold her hand, too. 

“It doesn't make any sense,” I said, finally. Thinking about logic was a lot better than thinking about the ways I had screwed up. “How come you can pick stuff up and type on the computer and all, but you can't touch a person? A body's made up of molecules same as anything else. You should be able to pick me up, too.”

_no i couldnt ur like a foot taller than me_

“Well, okay, try to. Or, like, even if it's a rule that ghosts can't touch people, I'm wearing a shirt, right? So you should be able to touch my shirt, and then I'd feel that, wouldn't I?”

_hmmmmmmmmmmmm_

For a moment there was nothing, and then I felt a tug on the strap of my tank top. My breath sucked in, and then I snapped my fingers. “There?” I said, casual, as if it wasn't anything. “See? It's not that hard – ooph!” There was a sudden feeling of pressure all around my ribcage – pressure like someone had just thrown their arms around me. 

It was weird. It was _so_ weird. I brought one hand down experimentally and waved it through the space where the rest of Liz would have to be, if her arms were where I felt them, and there was nothing; I couldn't feel anything. But I _could_ feel her arms hugging me. 

If I closed my eyes – well, look, it had been a really, really long time since anyone had hugged me, okay? 

After a moment, the pressure vanished, and I heard typing again. I opened my eyes. _u felt that right?_

“Yeah – yeah! You know I did. But it was weird, like, I couldn't touch you but you could touch me?”

_bc ur shirts shortsleeved?_

“Nuh-uh --” I was wearing shorts, but I still had my sandals on; I swung my leg vaguely through the area where I thought Liz had to be. “See? Nada. I think – hey, try grabbing my hand.”

_dont u have to get a glove???_

“Whatever, just try it!”

And I felt fingers, stubby and solid, lacing through mine. 

“Yeah! See?” I shifted my fingers, and felt her grip tighten on mine in response. “Okay – okay, here's what I'm thinking. Okay. So, like, stuff goes through you unless you really don't want it to, right? You can go through doors, whatever. So when you're concentrating on touching _me_ , it's like I can feel you. But the rest of the time, it's like you're not there. That's your default. That's why I can't touch _you,_ because you're only thinking about being, like, solid in the place where you're touching me.”

_ths s so cool agh one hand ypng scks ugh_

The fingers disengaged, and a new line of text rapidly appeared: _wow ok this is awesome this is AWESOME!!!! no 1 told me ghosts could do that_

“Normal ghosts probably can't. Only half-demon ghosts can move stuff, remember?”

_yeah but the jerk half demon ghost chloe met didnt try to hit her or anything he had to pick up stuff and use it_

“Well – yeah, okay, maybe, but didn't all this crap happen because we're super-powered to begin with? You, too. You probably can do a lot of stuff normal ghosts can't do. Even normal half-demon ghosts.” 

_awww yea ok im gonna hug u again sry huggings better than typing_

“Okay, but why not try – try, like, concentrating on being there all the way, okay? Then I can hug you for real. Just, you know, think hard about all the places where we're touching, I guess –”

_haha that sounds kind of dirty  
gonna try it tho_

_“– whoa!”_

It turned out that in order to be typing on my laptop, Liz had to be essentially in my lap; I had to throw my arms around her to keep from over-balancing and falling off my chair. 

I still couldn't see her. I couldn't see a thing except my empty room. But now, in addition to her arms around my ribcage, I could feel her weight on my thighs, the texture of her cotton nightshirt, and what sure felt a lot like a face pressing into my neck. I couldn't hear anything, but I could feel her shaking, and I knew enough to recognize the rhythm of it. 

I'd known she had been upset, but it's easy to sound cheerful when you're typing. I hadn't realized she had actually still been crying. 

I'd never been much good at giving or receiving comfort with most people. But – well, that was the thing about Liz. You couldn't be self-conscious with someone like Liz. I rubbed my hand over the space that was her back, as soothingly as could, trying not to think about how completely bizarre this all was – trying instead to think about how basically familiar it was, how there had been a couple times back at Lyle House where we'd just bawled on each other about how much everything sucked. And after all that bawling, everything had been a little bit better. 

Eventually, the shaking under my hand stopped. Everything in the Liz area sort of shifted around for a bit; I wasn't sure exactly what was going where, but by the time it was done, I was pretty sure that Liz was sitting facing forward in my lap, with my arms around her waist and her legs dangling over mine. 

_ok is this good?_

“So, uh, you're just gonna sit on my lap while we're talking, is that what we're doing now?” I tried to sound totally chill, but – okay, hugging was one thing, Liz had always been a really huggy person. I'd dated plenty of guys that I had less physical contact with than I did with Liz. (Though, to be honest, pretty much all of the guys I'd dated, I'd also just _liked_ a lot less as human beings than I liked Liz.) But I hadn't had someone sitting on my lap since my little sister turned seven. 

It was kind of nice, though. In a weird way. 

_if its ok  
but maybe ur legs are falling asleep_

They were, a little bit. I didn't say that, though. I shifted a little, leaning forward to put my chin on her shoulder...

...and almost fell forward into my own lap. “Ugh, Liz, your shoulder isn't _there!_ ”

_sry didnt know u were gonna do that!_

I leaned back again, scowling. It had been a stupid impulse, anyway. I didn't know why I'd even done it.

_come on dont be mad were just gonna have to practice or something_

“My legs _are_ falling asleep,” I said, knowing I sounded kind of bitchy, and not super caring. 

_ok  
wait_

A second later, and the weight of Liz's legs was gone – but my arms were still around her waist, and I could still feel the bump of her stomach under my fingers.

“. . . ew, no, it's like I'm cuddling a disembodied torso! I'd rather have my legs fall asleep!”

_ok i could just like go ghosty again i guess_

“No --” My fingers curled themselves into her nightgown and pressed into her stomach, without conscious direction from me. “No, don't do that. It's okay. Whatever. Stay here.” 

Slowly, the pressure from Liz's legs came back. 

_so can i tell u smthing_

“Sure.” 

_u kno how at the end of ghost swayze like disappears into a beam of light and goes to heaven or something_

“. . . yeah.” I wasn't sure I liked where this was going. 

_and i just really started bawling. cuz it was sad but also i was thinking well maybe i should just u kno do that. if its good enough for swayze and all. and_

The thing about having an invisible, half-corporal person on your lap is that when you start getting mad, you don't know if any of your dramatic gestures are gonna work. I tried one anyway, grabbing for where I thought her arms were; my hands slid through empty space, which just made me angrier. “Don't you dare, don't you _dare,_ don't you even think about it! Do you _know_ how much more my life would suck if you weren't here?”

So sure, it was totally selfish; so maybe she'd be happier if she faded away and went to doing what dead people did full time. I didn't care. I needed not to be alone with all the shit I was dealing with. I needed _Liz._

_i'm not gonna i'm not gonna_

Her arms went solid under my hands; the keys in front of me were flying. 

_i thought about u and how mad u would get just like u are now_  
also how chloe and u guys would have been dead like 10x if i wasnt there to help lol  
but yeah mostly about u and how im not ur helpful ghost friend im your friend friend or like whatever sry for being sappy  
anyway maybe its selfish bc people r supposed to move on like demi moore is probably gonna marry some dude who is not as hot as patrick swayze and live happily ever after and that's fine  
but im not going anywhere yet  
wow typing all this out really sucks i wish there was like ghost hearing aids or smthing 

My hands tightened around her elbows, and I pulled her closer. I didn't know what to say. “I guess,” I muttered, “you can be sappy. I'm okay with sappiness, as long as it contributes to the overall goal of my life not sucking.” 

Liz was all there now, legs and chest and shoulders and all. My skin felt super-sensitive, incredibly aware of everywhere she was – it was almost like I could see her. She shifted around a little; her arms went around my neck...

… and then the door opened. “Tori? Are you okay? Um, did you get Liz's text? She said . . . she s-said . . . s-said . . . .”

I gave her my coolest stare, and had the satisfaction of seeing her turn an even redder red than she did when I walked in on her and Derek having gross makeouts. “Yeah?” 

“Um,” said Chloe, doing her best talking beet impression. “Hi, Liz. I, um. You – you know Liz is here, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, and tightened my arm pointedly around her waist. “Obviously.”

“O-okay. So . . . Derek and I are . . . going to go for a walk? I guess? Um. Bye!”

The door closed, and I could hear Chloe's rapid footsteps as she fled down the hall. I blinked, once, twice – and then just started to laugh, helpless, belly heaving. I couldn't hear Liz, but I knew with an absolute certainty that she was laughing too. 

It was just a moment, but at least for that moment, everything was like it should be; everything was pretty much okay.

* * *

Later that night, I chased Chloe down. “Hey – you know, about me and Liz – can you not tell anybody else about it? I'm not really ready to talk about it yet.”

“Of course,” said Chloe earnestly, like I'd known she would.

To be honest, I didn't actually give a damn what Derek and Simon thought – well, not about that, at least. People had been calling me a lesbo at school ever since I got my hair cut short, so why should I care now when it was sort of I guess becoming true?

But whenever we were all hanging out in the living room, and Liz turned up, and Chloe had to start desperately stammering out excuses for why she was turning brick-colored –

Okay, so maybe it wasn't very _nice_ , but it _was_ hilarious.

Call it a coping mechanism, right? When almost everything sucks, it's the little wins that get you through.


End file.
